neighbor and her rescued dog move in
my old neighbor’s
house. The new neighbor drives
car and hauls ReUseIt grocery totes
back and forth to
the store, best I can tell. She cares
about the world.
I wonder what the Realtor said
she led her client through the parquet
halls and circles
of my old neighbor’s Hell: This is
where she walked.
This is where she talked. This
she buttered her bread. And this—
the heap on which she stood Dido-like,
full of rage and pain,
before she threw herself into air
Who knows what’s truthfully required?
Some parts of life
and owning up must be nothing less
than a hard sell.